Page 45 of Obsession of the Bratva

I felt irritation flare. “I’m telling you exactly what happened.”

“No.”

He took a step forward. “You’re telling me half of what happened.”

“I don’t owe you the rest.”

The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. His eyes went completely flat.

“After everything you’ve put me through, you think you don’t owe me answers?”

My temper finally snapped. “Oh, we’re talking about what I’ve put you through?”

His brows lifted dangerously as if in a challenge. “Go ahead and challenge that if you can, my love.”

There it was. That damned nickname again. I laughed, but the sound came out sharp.

“You kidnapped me from my own fucking wedding, Nico.”

“You were marrying another man.”

“You stalked me and locked me in this house!”

His expression didn’t change. “You aren’t exactly chained to a wall.”

I stared at him. “Are you serious right now?”

“No.” His voice dropped. “I’m actually being generous.”

The arrogance of him. The absolute arrogance. I shoved away from the counter.

“Generous?”

“Compared to what I wanted to do when I first found you, yes.”

I stopped moving because I believed him. Every word. Something dark flickered through his expression before disappearing. We spoke over one another, neither willing to back down or surrender. Months of hurt were finally erupting out of both of us, and I could see it happen.

“Do you know what it felt like watching you marry him?”

The question hit harder than I expected, and for a second, neither of us spoke. Because I knew. God help me. I knew. The memory of seeing him in that dressing room surfaced immediately. The look in his eyes was filled with fury, devastation, betrayal, hurt, and everything awful all at once. He looked away first. Only for a second. But it was enough.

And suddenly I wasn’t angry anymore.

Just tired. So incredibly tired.

“You could have asked me.”

His laugh was bitter. “When?”

I swallowed.

“Nico—”

“When, Vera?”

His voice rose. “The day you told me I meant nothing?”

I looked down.